No Better Way
by Julie Windred
Summary: Songfic. Burrowing their true feelings, one more argument and a few ill words leads to the breakup of Wyatt and Bianca.


_Disclaimer: Charmed and its inclusive characters are the property of Spelling Entertainment and the writers and creators of the television show Charmed. This story is written for entertainment purposes only and not intended to infringe upon the rights of those that originally created and wrote the characters that feature in it. All original characters and works are my own and permission is required from the author before archiving this story elsewhere. The song used is "Sexed Up" by Robbie Williams. The following story is probably not meant in the same intent as the lyrical value of the song, but I for some odd reason was inspired to write a breakup fic to it. _

_Author's Notes: Features Wyatt Halliwell and Bianca (yes, I know she's Chris' fiance but I prefer she be with Wyatt) from Charmed.Um do I need mention it's a breakup songfic again?_**

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NO BETTER WAY

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"You're not what I need right now."

Perched on the edge of the bed, Bianca lowered her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; words leaving his lips – those soft, sweet lips – so bitter, so cruel. Rejection stung like poison injecting into her veins; diffusing, absorbing, suffocating all that kept her alive. He didn't want her anymore. He didn't _care_ anymore.

_Loose lips sunk ships  
I'm getting to grips with what you said_

Lifting her head she saw he was no longer in the bedroom. She'd always felt safe here, so comfortable. Lying in his arms she could have told him anything, but now he didn't want to know. He didn't want to share. Was that gratifying memory to be tainted by this ill experience – this revelation that he no longer loved her?

She couldn't comprehend such a detrimental change of feeling. It had been there, it had all been there, but he just kept falling away for the past few months. She had denied it; she had seen but covered her eyes refusing to believe. She did not want what they had to disappear, but at the same time she did not know what she could do to stop the decay. All she could do was pretend it had not been there, but now she could pretend no longer. She wasn't going to let this be over, not yet. Pushing herself to her feet she walked out of the room in search of him.

_No it's not in my head  
I can't awaken the dead  
Day after day_

"How can you be so cold? How…" she started as soon as she saw him, her gaze falling from his shoulder to his hand. "Wyatt?"

He was pressed up against the liquor cabinet, a bottle of port in his hand as he poured himself another glass. He kept his back to her, steadily filling to the brim before lifting the glass and downing the red-stained liquid in one go, slamming the glass down next to the bottle. His hands clutched the edge of the bench, his knuckles whitening as tension stretched across his hands, his eyes lifting to the upper display in dismal thought. He did not turn around at the mention of his name, nor did he speak.

"Are you just going to ignore me now? Pretend I'm not here?" she questioned.

Wyatt looked back down at his glass. Picking up the bottle, he poured himself another, watching the liquid steadily trickle into the clear casing. Wrapping a warm hand around the coolness, he lifted it towards his lips, stopping in midair to study the darkening depths. Steadily he swirled the alcohol, watching it lap at the sides, threatening to spill over the edges.

"I wouldn't dare," he answered.

"What did you mean? Before?" she asked timidly, watching his movements studiously as she took a step towards him.

The glass again touched his lips, the liquid once more escaping down his throat, although this time he appeared to struggle swallowing it. His grip tightened around the glass, fracturing it slightly as he slowly lowered it back to the wooden surface.

"I thought that was blatantly obvious."

The reply was as harsh as a slap to the face. Quickly she looked away, that feeling of helplessness and lost hope beginning to wash over her again. Why did it feel so hard this time? Why couldn't they just work things out like they had before?

"Do you want to talk about it?" she questioned uncertainly.

"No."

"Wyatt, please! Tell me what's going on."

"I said no."

"You know I can't read your mind," she retorted. He remained silent, Bianca instantly knowing the words she had attempted to insult him with were not prompting him to tell her what he was thinking as she had hoped they would. Swallowing hard, she looked at him again. "What do you want? You want me to go?"

"No."

Against her better nature, she stayed, remembering the last time she had walked away from him. She had done so and instantly regretted it, returning minutes later to apologise. She couldn't leave him; she cared about him too much. Despite what he had said, she didn't want things to get worse. But every word hurt and it made her want to go, it willed her to save herself from this torture, it threatened her with tears and ill feelings and pushed her away.

She watched him reach for the bottle again, wondering if the only reason he could do this, the only reason he would be brave enough to face her with such contempt was because he'd become inebriated enough to do so. She hated to watch him destroy himself that way, and to make it even more distressing he seemed to want her to watch.

"What are you going to do when that's finished?" she asked.

"Find another."

"Wyatt, that's not the answer."

_Why don't we talk about it?  
Why do you always doubt that there can be a better way  
It doesn't make me wanna stay_

"What is the answer then, Bianca?" he snapped, finally turning to look at her. "What is the answer?"

"I don't…"

"Of course you don't know; because you expect _me_ to know. You think I'm capable of the impossible."

"I never—"

"What? Never expected anything? What bullshit," Wyatt said, turning back to the cabinet.

"Wyatt." She didn't dare say any more than his name, afraid he wouldn't let her speak.

_Why don't we break up  
There's nothing left to say  
I got my eyes shut  
Praying they won't stray  
Oh we're not sexed up  
That's what makes the difference today  
I hope you blow away_

"You know what my problem is?" Wyatt questioned. "I'm sick of everyone wanting so much from me. I'm sick of them expecting me to drop whatever I'm doing to go and cater to their trivial problems. I'm tired of having to stay home to play housewife while my girlfriend goes frolicking with devils and demons and tries to get herself killed everyday. Everyone acts like what I'm feeling is insignificant and it's only their selfish needs that matter. Well here's news, I have my own problems too."

"I know," Bianca said softly, walking towards him. "I know that and I want to help. Let me help you."

"Ha," Wyatt laughed tenuously. "What are you going to do? Slice a nice fine line through my skin? Impale my heart? You wouldn't know where to start, would you? It's not like you're capable of doing anything else."

_You say we're fatally flawed  
Well I'm easily bored  
Is that OK?_

Is that how you think of me? Is that all you really think I'm interested in? You know what I gave up for this. I sacrificed so much to make this work because I _wanted_ to be with you. All those times you needlessly worried about me running off with someone else and you're the one who fell out of love with me. I can't believe I changed my whole life for this, for you. It wasn't even worth it."

"Bianca," Wyatt started, unsure if he should correct her. He watched her close in on him with an observant gaze.

"You scare me when I don't know what's going on in your head," she continued, stopping before him and looking up with a mixture of hurt and fire in her eyes. "When you go silent on me, when you won't talk to me, when you put up this front of not giving a damn when I know you do."

"You do the same," he said, attentively sweeping the hair from her face. His fingers glided down her cheek, snaking around the back of her neck and pulling her towards him as he leant down and pressed his lips firmly to hers.

"Don't," she protested, pulling away, tears glistening in her eyes. "Don't lie to me anymore. Don't pretend you love me when you don't."

_Write me off your list  
Make this the last kiss  
I walk away_

Wyatt pushed away from her. "You always think you know what's best, don't you Bianca?"

"I'm trying the best I can!" she cried. "What do you expect after saying that to me? You never say what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Why do you have to be so fucking selfish?"

"Why do you have to be so fucking needy?" he retaliated. "It's always 'Wyatt do the washing', 'Wyatt do the grocery shopping', 'Wyatt clean this', 'Wyatt fix this', 'Wyatt heal this'…"

"Wyatt, stop it!" she pleaded.

"See."

_Why don't we talk about it?  
I'm only here don't shout it  
Given time we'll forget  
Let's pretend we never met  
_

Her lip trembled slightly as she watched him, the scorn on his face just as heartbreaking as his words. An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Every second that passed she willed him to change his mind, to be the person he used to be, to break out of the loathing like it was some horrible joke and take her back into his arms. But he remained unchanged and Bianca knew that this time they weren't going to forget about it, this time they were not going to be able to put it behind him.

"We're not going to be able to fix this, are we?" she asked quietly.

"Fix what?" Wyatt asked. A twisted smile formed on his face and he laughed bitterly. "Oh, that's right; you want me to make this go 'poof'! Because I have the power to do that, right? It's not like I have anything better to do than cater to your whiles. It's a marvelous waste of time."

"Don't be ridiculous," Bianca argued. Sighing as she tried to calm herself, she glared at him. "I'm not dealing with you when you're drunk."

"I'm not dealing with you when you're bitchy."

_Why don't we break up?  
There's nothing left to say  
I got my eyes shut  
Praying they won't stray  
Oh we're not sexed up  
That's what makes the difference today  
I hope you blow away_

"Fuck you, Wyatt."

"No thanks," he returned.

"I hate you."

"You hate me? Why do you bother hanging around then? I'm better off alone anyway."

"Fine. You want to be alone? Fine," she seethed. "I'll go out and find some other man who doesn't pity himself so much."

_Screw you  
I didn't like your taste anyway  
I chose you  
That's all gone to waste  
It's Saturday  
I'll go out and find another you_

Her eyes blazing, she gave him one more hateful look before heading back to the bedroom, trying hard to disguise the love she still felt for him. He didn't deserve that, not with the way he was treating her now. Wyatt watched her go, still smoldering himself, not about to let her have the last word.

"Yeah, you do that. Go make someone else put up with your fucked up nonsense and leave me the hell alone!" he shouted after her.

Bianca stopped by the door, her fingers tentatively brushing the handle. She stared at the floor, letting every last sharp word sink in before she progressed any further. There was no point in retaliating – he wasn't going to listen anyway. Moving inside, she slammed the door behind her.

_Why don't we?  
Why don't we break up?  
There's nothing left to say  
I got my eyes shut  
Praying they won't stray  
Oh we're not sexed up  
That's what makes the difference today  
I hope you blow away  
I hope you blow away_

She could still hear his movements outside. She wanted him to go, to orb out somewhere, to go further away where she wouldn't have to think, hear or see him. Grabbing a bag from the closet floor, she threw it onto the bed, angrily yanking clothes from the hangers and throwing them carelessly into the bag, swiping away stray tears from her face as she grabbed the next item. Pulling open the drawer, she burrowed through the contents, throwing the odd belong of Wyatt's onto the ground as vented revenge. Scooping up what was hers, she walked back over to the bed and looked down at the bag. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to go. She hated him so much but her heart was so consumed with love and guilt it would kill her to do so. Instead she turned and sank back onto the mattress, still clutching the pile of shirts in her arms. Her body shook as she finally let go the tears she had been holding back so firmly, the ones she didn't want him to see. She cried for everything they had been through and everything she would lose. Every pain she had caused him and him her. She knew that it was probably not meant to last; they would completely destroy each other over time. The thing that hurt most was ending it now. She didn't want it to be so final. She had stopped what she was doing and tried to dissuade herself with the thought that a little more time would make it easer, she could pretend she hated him but knew she didn't at all. He might no longer be in love with her, but her heart still very much belonged to him. She didn't want it to end now. Not today.

_I hope you blow away, away  
Blow away, away  
Just not today_


End file.
